


Texas Carwash

by Moosey



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: M/M, Post C&B, Smut, Toppy Ty, Ty is an ass, Zane is easy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 11:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4623420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moosey/pseuds/Moosey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this was inspired by the latest Nickoreads (featuring Kels), mostly as an excuse to have Ty dripping wet in jeans again!  Takes place... well, now I guess. Post C&B for sure, with super mild spoilers...</p><p>Any feedback is totally welcome :D</p>
    </blockquote>





	Texas Carwash

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Fantasme texan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9539429) by [sur1cat3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sur1cat3/pseuds/sur1cat3)



> So this was inspired by the latest Nickoreads (featuring Kels), mostly as an excuse to have Ty dripping wet in jeans again! Takes place... well, now I guess. Post C&B for sure, with super mild spoilers...
> 
> Any feedback is totally welcome :D

Ty had been absolutely insistent on them driving, and in the heat of the moment Zane couldn’t say no in the face of all that enthusiasm, but now he was definitely regretting giving in to Ty this time. They’d been in the car for days, crashing in crappy motels and eating whatever looked passably okay, and Zane was more than ready to reach their destination and ideally not set foot in the damn Mustang for at least a week. At least. Especially because Ty wasn’t about to give up the wheel anytime soon, though at least driving kept him from getting too twitchy. He was a terrible passenger, constantly fussing and fiddling with the radio and tapping and critiquing. Yep, it was much better to let him drive, Zane thought, stretching out his long legs as best he could. But damn it even Zane was getting bored playing passenger. 

They’d passed the state line into Texas a couple of hours ago, and were closing in on the ranch, and having their destination in proverbial sight was doing wonders for easing Zane’s tension. The Mustang already coated in a fine layer of grimy Texan dust, but Ty was excited for Harrison to finally see the finished product. It made Zane’s chest feel all achy to think of how much his husband was looking forward to showing the car off to Zane’s dad. He’d said he’d try his best to restore the beautiful car back to life, much like he’d done for Zane, and Ty had undoubtedly succeeded admirably. At both tasks. 

Rolling his head on the seat rest, Zane looked over at Ty as he squinted at the road ahead, a smile tugging at his mouth as he watched Ty hum quietly, his forefingers tapping out a beat on the wheel. It still struck Zane just how lucky he was, to get to witness Ty in quiet moments like this. To be able to call Ty his. 

“You okay?” Ty asked, glancing over at Zane. “Why are you staring?” his mouth quirked. “You’re being a creeper.” 

Zane grinned a little and reached out his hand to squeeze Ty’s denim clad thigh. “Just lookin’ is all,” he said softly. 

Ty chuckled and placed his hand over Zane’s. “Hell Zane, as soon as we cross the state line it’s like that damn accent just comes out,” he mused, giving Zane an amused glance. “I love it darlin’,” Ty let his own accent roll across his tongue. 

Zane chuffed a little laugh and stared out the windows as they rolled up to the Carter-Garrett ranch, rattling over the cattle gates and making their way to the guesthouse. 

Zane felt easier coming home these days, and he knew a big part of that was having Ty at his side, but it was also his mom. Beverly and Zane would never have a particularly close mother-son relationship, but things were much less strained between them, and she’d accepted Ty. It was more than Zane had ever hoped for. 

“Zane!” Ty exclaimed as they got out of the car. He flailed a hand in the direction of the vehicle, and glared at Zane. “Look at her!” 

Zane did as he was told, and looked over the car. “Yeah?” 

“She’s dirty!” Ty huffed. 

“Welcome to Texas doll,” Zane drawled, grabbing their bags and closing the trunk, amused by Ty’s mercurial moods. 

“I hate Texas Zane,” Ty said solemnly, running a slightly crooked forefinger through the dust coating the bonnet. 

“I know baby,” Zane soothed, earning him another glare from Ty. Zane had to laugh, even as Ty advanced on him, jabbing a finger out to point at Zane. 

“Watch it Lonestar,” he said, voice laden with warning. “Or that Stetson you like me in so much? It’ll be nothing but a fond memory of days gone by.” 

Zane schooled his face, but his lips still twitched, this time with affection rather than amusement, as Ty sighed and turned to face the car again. “You’ll help me clean her later?” he asked quietly. He really did want Harrison to be happy with the job he’d done. 

“Of course I will,” Zane replied, reaching out to hook a finger through the belt loop of Ty’s jeans, pulling him closer. “Let’s get our stuff inside, and we’ll make her pretty again, okay?” 

Ty nodded once, and patted Zane on the cheek, really more of a slap than anything. “Good plan Garrett. Come on then,” he said, strolling past Zane to enter the house. 

Zane looked down at both the bags at his feet and grinned. Even after all this time, Ty could definitely still be an ass when he wanted to be. 

\-----------------------------------------

 

It was obscenely hot. Almost intolerably so, and Zane was born and bred here. He figured living on the East Coast was making him soft, as he grunted and rearranged his sprawl on the sofa, a cold glass of ice tea in his hand. He’d had a quick nap, an even quicker shower, and was now clad only in sweatpants but seriously contemplating nudity as a valid clothing choice. He hadn’t seen Ty in a while, had woken up alone, but assumed he would be poking around somewhere. It wasn’t really in Ty’s nature to be still for too long. Draining his drink, Zane hauled himself off the sofa and headed out to the front drive to see if Ty was tinkering with the car. Even though it was running beautifully, Ty would often tinker. Or just lift the hood and look at the internal workings of the car, making sense of the mess in a way Zane couldn’t. 

Sure enough, Ty was out there, but he definitely wasn’t tinkering. Zane’s feet halted on the porch, and he was momentarily wondering if he’d woken up earlier at all. Because he was sure he’d had a dirty dream like this at some point.

Ty had stripped off his over shirt, and was down to his jeans and a white V-neck tee that was currently dampened with a mix of water and sweat, erring towards see-through, and clinging in the most mesmerising ways to Ty’s torso and back as he leaned over the car. His skin looked golden against the white of the shirt, and his muscles moved together in perfect harmony as he sponged circles on the roof, pausing only to wipe his forehead with the red buff wrapped around his wrist. Zane’s mouth went dryer than the desert around them when Ty stooped down to wet the sponge again, his thighs shifting under the wet denim, and his forearms cording when he wrung the sponge out. 

“You just gonna stand there catching flies or actually help me?” Ty asked without looking over at Zane. For his part, Zane just made a little pained sound. Now that made Ty look up. He smirked and rose to his full height, shoulders drawn back, the wet shirt stuck to his abs and chest, and looked up at Zane from lowered lashes, that slightly sinister expression that made Zane break out into goosebumps every damn time. 

“Jesus Ty…” Zane breathed out. 

“See something you like?” Ty drawled with a little more gravel than usual. Zane nodded, eyes roaming over Ty, drinking in the sight of him. He knew with perfect clarity that this would be something he would remember forever, and it was only through sheer force of will that he didn’t throw Ty down right then and there. That willpower was pushed to it’s absolute limits when Ty skated a hand down his own stomach, and popped the top button of his jeans, drawing Zane’s gaze to the growing hard on trapped in Ty’s jeans. Zane knew he was in a similar state. 

“Fuck, baby,” Zane whimpered. “You look….”

“Yeah?” smirked Ty, stepping closer. He paused a few feet away and slowly peeled off the wet shirt, dropping it to the ground with a little splat. His skin was glistening damp in the sunlight, and he looked down at himself. “I’m all dirty,” he said with faux-innocence. 

Zane groaned and stretched his hand out wanting to feel Ty's skin, but Ty danced back out of reach. “Uh-uh. No touchy,” he sing-songed. His eyes were dark with lust but glittering with mischief when he grabbed up the hose that was lying by the car. He jutted his chin out at the faucet, and Zane moved silently towards it, twisting to turn on the water. He half thought Ty might spray him in the face with the hose, and he wasn’t sure he’d really care right now if he did. Water streamed out of the hose, turning the ground a rich clay red, and Ty aimed it over his torso lazily. He swiped dust and dirt off of his skin with protracted sweeps of his palm, his hand dragging over his muscles, water streaming down his torso in rivulets and soaking his jeans until they were tight like a second skin. 

Zane was hit hard with a wave of nostalgia on the heels of lust, as he looked at Ty standing dripping wet in his jeans, thinking of that hotel bathroom in New York. “Good luck getting out of those gracefully,” he recited, pleased to note his voice was only slightly breathless. 

Ty laughed at that, his head tipped back a little showing off the line of his throat, and Zane could barely breathe at the sight. His husband was so fucking beautiful. “I seem to recall you managed that one okay,” Ty smirked, dropping the hose and stalking closer. “Let’s see how you do this time Lonestar. On your knees,” he ordered. Zane complied before he’d even really registered the words, his breath catching as he focused his shaking fingers on drawing down Ty’s zipper and peeling the wet material from Ty’s hips and legs. Ty was looking down at him as he worked, lifting his legs to help Zane pull off his sneakers and jeans and socks. Zane sat back on his heels, worrying his lower lip with his teeth; his eyes were level with Ty’s erection, showcased in sodden, tight, black underwear. 

“Get inside Zane.” Ty had no humour in his voice, and it made Zane shudder as he rushed to his feet, leading the way into the guesthouse. He fucking loved it when Ty got like this. This was when Ty would really let go, and fuck them both senseless. Ty backed Zane up against the wall, keeping about a foot of distance between them; enough for Zane to reach out and touch, but he knew better than to try. Ty cocked his eyebrow and made a twirling gesture with his finger, prompting Zane to face the wall. “Hands up.” 

Zane placed his palms on the wall just above his head, bracing himself. He was so hyper-aware that it made his body quake when Ty ran his palm slowly down Zane’s spine, skin catching skin, before curling his fingers into the waistband of Zane’s sweatpants and yanking them down without ceremony. Zane’s erection caught in the elastic and slapped back against his belly audibly when it came free, and Zane jerked and groaned all at once, kicking out of his clothing and spreading his legs slightly. 

Ty hummed approvingly, and kissed the back of Zane’s neck, biting softly. His mouth was the only point of contact between them, and it was killing Zane. “Baby, please,” he begged, not even sure what he was begging for at this point. He just needed more. 

“What do you want?” Ty demanded, his breath warm against Zane’s skin. He mouthed his way across the back of Zane’s shoulders, and it was enough to have Zane gasping. 

“You. Ty, please. Just you.” 

“I’m right here baby,” Ty drawled in Zane’s ear, close enough for Zane to feel his body heat. 

“Fucking touch me Ty,” Zane groaned, arching his back to try and get some contact. 

Ty laughed, a gravelly, slightly depraved sound, and reached around to skim his fingertips up Zane’s torso, trailing his thumbs lightly over Zane’s nipples. Zane jolted, his muscles tensing in a stutter. The feather light touches were almost worse than nothing. 

“Come on, Ty,” Zane growled, curling his hands into fists. Ty reached down and took a hold of him in a firm grip, not stroking or moving, but just holding tight. Zane groaned loudly and tried to roll his hips, trying to fuck Ty’s hand but the grip was too tight for any friction or movement. Zane snarled wordlessly and thumped his hand against the wall, feeling like he could snap at any moment, so great was the tension ratcheting up in his body. All he could do was let out an obscene groan and flop his head forward when Ty finally started to move, jacking Zane slowly and stepping closer, his body pushing Zane’s against the wall. 

“God, Ty… fuck. Fuck,” Zane panted, his hips moving as much as they could between the wall and Ty. Ty bit down on his shoulder and was suddenly gone, leaving Zane bereft and sagging against the wall. Zane was pretty sure he might have whimpered at the loss. 

Ty was soon back, grabbing Zane’s wrist and pushing the bottle of lube into Zane hand before retreating again. “Prep yourself,” he ordered. He pressed a palm against Zane’s back, pushing him forward so his chest was against the wall. Zane’s hands were shaking as he smothered his fingers in lube, arching his back and his hips out from the wall. He reached behind himself and played around his own hole, groaning as he pushed his own fingers inside of himself, feeling his own muscles clenching and releasing. He had to pause and breathe when he heard Ty’s breath catch behind him, followed by the tell tale sound of a slick hand stroking a slick cock. 

The thought of Ty touching himself whilst he watched Zane like this was almost unbearably hot, and Zane was close to begging again, assuming he could even form words right now. He gasped out nonsense as he played, almost pushing himself to the point of orgasm, when Ty pulled his hand out. He replaced Zane’s fingers with his hard cock, pushing into Zane in one smooth movement, until he bottomed out and then they both had to pause or it would be over in seconds. 

Ty stretched Zane out against the wall and covered his body, pinning him and using his abs and hips to thrust in, shoving into Zane over and over. There was nothing elegant here; it was brute force and a desperation that Zane hadn’t felt from Ty in a long time, and it had him hovering on the cusp of orgasm, suspended just on the very edge. Ty gripped a hand in Zane’s hair, pulling his head back, and gripped his aching erection in one strong hand and that was more than enough to send Zane over the edge. He shouted and came, spasming around Ty, jerking against the wall and smearing his come against the woodwork. He was still twitching when Ty pushed fully inside and came with a loud groan, biting down on Zane’s shoulder to try and stifle his own uncontrolled sounds. 

“Fucking hell Zane,” Ty panted after a moment, sounding accusatory as he pulled out slowly and turned to slump against the wall. He sunk to the floor and tugged Zane down with him, wrapping him up in his strong arms. Zane relaxed into Ty’s hold, turning his head to breathe Ty in. 

“What was that?” he murmured with a smile. He was almost boneless with satiation. 

Ty chuckled, and it rumbled in his chest against Zane’s jaw. “You should have seen the look on your face when you saw me Zane,” he smirked. “I could have made you do damn near anything.” 

“You can always make me do damn near anything,” Zane pointed out, pressing a kiss to Ty’s collarbone. “But feel free to make me do that again.”

Ty chuckled a pressed a kiss to Zane’s sweaty temple, nuzzling there a moment. “You’re so easy,” he said happily, resting his head back against the wall with a thud. 

“Only for you Ty,” Zane replied, closing his eyes and settling back, feeling truly at home in Ty’s arms. Even with the hard floor under his ass, Zane could have stayed there all night.

“Fuck,” Ty suddenly groaned, lifting his head. “We left the hose on.”


End file.
